death can never take away a memory, in fact it gives birth to it

in any unclaimed turf, what else is there to do besides get comfy

alone at night, thunderstorms out and in, scared and forced to wait it out, in hopes it doesn’t fall apart

all that we do, anything that we do, it’s a part of nature, an expression of nature itself

if it’s bad, so be it

the ship sails into the bay and all of us land in the water

the river will bend as intended, and every rock falling into place

it’s times like this that i regret not grabbing some oreos and milk at the store